


a million ways

by pendules



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, The Raven King Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sometimes Adam looks at him before he kisses him like he's about to say something and his pulse starts racing from that distinct mixture of fear and exhilaration that he knows all too well, that he would feel every time he was pulled into another dream of unknown wonders, unknown terrors. It feels like being given another kind of power that he doesn't know what to do with, one he probably shouldn't have.</i>
</p><p>Or: Ronan tries to tell him everything before he leaves for college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a million ways

_Love_ still feels like a dangerous thought to have sometimes. It feels like too great a weapon being wielded by too easy a word to say. It feels like something you can't come back from. It feels like blood and pain and death. It feels like placing a knife in someone else's hands that's aimed directly at your own heart. Sometimes Adam looks at him before he kisses him like he's about to say something and his pulse starts racing from that distinct mixture of fear and exhilaration that he knows all too well, that he would feel every time he was pulled into another dream of unknown wonders, unknown terrors. It feels like being given another kind of power that he doesn't know what to do with, one he probably shouldn't have.

Other times, it feels too insubstantial. A word doesn't mean anything by itself. And people say things they don't mean all the time. He doesn't, though. He doesn't _want_ to. It feels like a half-truth when he dares to let himself think it. It doesn't mean everything he wants it to mean. It's not _enough_. Maybe it _can_ mean all of those things, but it doesn't inherently contain them: _I want to be close to you, I want you to be happy, I want to know every single piece of you, I want to have this forever._ He doesn't think he can ever put it into words, so he doesn't try. He trails his fingertips over each knob of Adam's spine, he kisses him soft and slow like he doesn't ever want to stop, he worships every inch of his body with his hands and mouth and eyes. He hopes it's enough. But maybe it isn't. Maybe he _will_ have to try someday, someday soon when he isn't close enough to touch, to love with all of himself at once. He doesn't know how to begin. He carefully wrote _Manibus_ on a container of dreamt hand lotion once and it felt inadequate still. There's no language in the real world or the dream one to describe how he feels about him. There's not enough time to say all of it if he had a million years.

*

It's another night for truth, but the air is warmer this time, because it's the end of summer and the warehouse is stuffy. Or maybe it's just _full_. Their blood is probably warmer, too, because of the alcohol (there also might have been some dancing involved, but he's hopefully going to forget that ever happened). It kind of feels like it could be their last night together like this for a while, although no one will openly acknowledge it, and they're making the most of it.

Blue and Adam are playing pool (which mostly seems to involve a lot of shouting and giggling) while Henry focuses on DJ-ing and ignoring Ronan's criticisms of his selections and it just slips out of his mouth because he's not sure when his next chance might be.

"I don't know how to tell him, man."

"What?" Gansey says, looking too blissed-out, high on the two beers he's had or the promise of the future or all of them here with him, to be remotely concerned.

"How I feel about him."

"I'm pretty sure he already knows," Gansey says like it's an absolute truth.

"I don't know. Maybe. I want him to know for _sure_ , though. And it feels like I'm running out of time."

"Hey, he's only going to be a couple states away — but if you really want to, you could always…write him a poem? A letter? A particularly moving text?" he suggests.

"I don't know what to say," he confesses.

"Just tell him the truth. He knows that you, you know — that you _love_ him. Everyone can see it."

"Yeah, but it — It doesn't feel like _enough_ most of the time," he says quietly, feeling frustrated with his own shortcomings. There are a lot of things he's resigned to never truly understand: love, himself, the infinite cruelty of the universe. Maybe he will some day but he's pretty certain it won't matter then anyway. He and Adam had somehow found themselves discussing the randomness of life a few months before and he'd said, characteristically eloquent, "But there are still _laws_ and shit, right. Something's still holding everything — the whole fucking universe — together so it doesn't all just go spiralling into the abyss of dark fucking nothingness. Gravity exists for a reason." He'd just hummed under his breath, not dismissively, but thoughtfully, the way he does when he thinks Ronan has a point but he doesn't want to explicitly admit it. And then they'd gone back to their regularly scheduled program of fighting over which Pokemon is the best or what to get for dinner. 

"Anything you say is going to be enough," Gansey assures him. "Because it's coming from _you_."

"Yeah, I guess," he says, nodding. He makes himself forget about it for the rest of the night.

*

"It's gonna be quiet here without you," he tells him at breakfast the day he's leaving.

Adam laughs softly. "I highly doubt it. But — maybe that'll be a good thing." He shrugs.

"No, I just — I mean, everything's _more_ when you're here. _Heightened._ Whatever. Everything _feels_ better."

Adam reaches across the table and takes his hand and he sees that look in his eye again, feels like something is about to spill over — 

"You know all of this is _yours_ , right?" he says, awkwardly, abruptly. "For as long as you want it —"

"What —" Adam blinks at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, _I'm_ yours. For as long as you'll have me." He knows it probably sounds trite and ridiculous but he can't bring himself to care. He means all of it, completely.

Adam just swallows, eyes still locked on his, before nodding and letting out a breath.

"I _know_ that," he promises. "And you know I feel the same way —"

"I just — I _needed_ to make sure that you know," he says, his throat feeling constricted. "Before you leave."

"Yeah," he says earnestly. "I _do_ know."

"Okay." He lets out a relieved sigh, gives him a grateful smile.

"Okay," Adam echoes, reflecting his smile.

"One more thing, though, while we're being all gross —" 

Adam raises an eyebrow as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small object that he places on the table between them.

Adam just stares at it intently for a moment, eyes narrowed. It looks like one of his leather bracelets but there are marble-sized stones around the band. Seven of them in varying colours.

"Go ahead," he says encouragingly. "Touch one of them."

Adam looks up at him before reaching out and pressing one tentative fingertip to the first stone. It starts swirling as soon as he touches it, wisps of white clouds drifting through a faded blue sky. Adam pulls his hand back, eyes wide and dazed. As they look on, the sky continues to change as if an entire day passes in a minute: from bright blue to lavender to red and orange and yellow to violet to dark blue, dotted with stars.

" _What the hell, Ronan?_ " Adam whispers. "Is that —"

"Yeah, the sky here." It's the same sunset they've spent countless afternoons watching from the porch or the roof or lying out in one of the fields.

"What the _hell_ ," he says again but he touches the stone next to it curiously, shaking his head slightly.

This one is a rich, dark green and he sees when the understanding dawns in his eyes, like a part of him being reignited, and he inhales deeply as the scent of Cabeswater wafts over him, the tangible memory of being there, being _one_ with it, the magic thrumming through his veins. His eyes fall shut and he goes completely still for a moment, basking in it. 

When his eyes open, he can see the raw emotion, the awe and the wistfulness and the joy, in them.

"Hey, it's —"

"Thank you," he says shakily, squeezing Ronan's hand again.

He touches the third stone after taking a moment to compose himself, one that looks like amber, and he smiles a familiar, content smile now as he recognises the grounding smell of earth and grass and the farmhouse they're currently sitting in and something vaguely like _Ronan_ , something indefinably like _home_.

The next one is a smooth, perfect opal. He strokes it gently and Ronan sees his face light up as he hears her laughter inside his own head, hears her say something in her native dream language that only he can understand.

The next is bright yellow and glows when he puts his finger to it, like one of his dream fireflies captured in glass. A light that won't ever go out.

The second to last is an impossible shade of blue, the colour of his wild dream flowers, the colour of —

"It's _you_ ," Adam breathes out. "I mean, the colour of your eyes."

Ronan nods once. Adam brings it close to his face, studying it, before he touches it and he doesn't know exactly what he feels but he clutches the stone and the bracelet to his chest for a few seconds before letting it go again with a tiny sigh.

The last one is a suspended galaxy. Adam touches it and it starts to spin and burn and expand and dance within the stone and behind his eyes. In perfect synchronisation. To some tune that was determined billions of years ago.

Adam releases it and just stares at him. "I can't believe you dreamt _that_ up — for _me_."

"Wear it?" he asks quietly. "To remember me."

"I don't _need_ something to remember you, you know."

"Yeah, but _still_ — And plus, anyone who asks about it will know you have a boyfriend —"

" _Jesus_ , Ronan," he says, rolling his eyes. "Way to ruin the moment."

"What?" he says defensively, but he's smirking anyway. "I'm just making sure none of your fancy Ivy League friends think about trying anything —"

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ asshole."

"Me too," Adam says after a second of acting annoyed.

"Yeah?"

" _Yeah_."

*

This is how he tells him: He lets him drive his car. He dreams him a key to his house. He holds his hand while he's falling asleep in the passenger seat on the way home. He leaves a space in his bed for him.

When he says _I'll be back soon_ , he tells him _I'll be here_. Like a promise. Like something surer than words. Like the invisible, infinite, unnameable strings that bind them together like the universe is bound together. 

This is how Adam says it back: He says his name like he knows all of him. He looks at him like he's not scared to see and be seen. He traces his fingers over his tattoo. He brushes his lips to his cheek. He sleeps with his body curled into his. He keeps his hand inside Ronan's. 

He comes back.


End file.
